April Fool
by DD Agent
Summary: Clarice is still searching for Hannibal, but the breakout of another serial killer draws the FBI's attention elsewhere. Now there are two killers for Clarice to catch, and her feelings for Hannibal consuming her. Completed.
1. Chapter 1

**Hannibal: April Fool by DD Agent**

**Chapter One**

I've had this idea in my head for nearly a year now, and it's been on my author page as a WIP for ages. So, now, I've decided to put it up and see what everyone thinks. The setting is the present day, about six years after the events of Hannibal the film.

**Spoilers: **Hannibal, Silence of the Lambs etc.

**Warnings: **Disturbing thoughts. Hey, it's Hannibal.

**Rating: **T, although it may be rated to M for later chapters. I'll let ya know.

**Plot: **Six years on from the events at Krendler's house, and Clarice is still searching the globe for Hannibal Lecter. However, the break out of another serial killer draws the attention of the FBI, and it becomes a race to see whether Clarice or Lecter reaches the murderer first.

**R and R if you like. **

Clarice Starling sat at her desk, going over the reports from countless Lecter sightings. He had become bigger than Elvis in some ways, and it was now her job to sort through the amount of false claims and try to separate any real ones. This was the way the big boys still kept her chained to a desk, but managed to keep her on the Lecter case. No one knew more about Hannibal Lecter than she did, not since the death of Jack Crawford. Even Will Graham had gone into seclusion since Lecter had escaped. She was effectively on her own.

"Agent Starling? Agent Brock wants to see you in his office," said a young recruit from the BAU. Clarice nodded, and followed the young Agent out.

As Clarice walked to Brock's office, she couldn't help but look at what her future could have been. She had been desperate to get into this sort of work, but Krendler and her shooting down of Buffalo Bill had kept her in her place. Drug raids, petty criminals. She had wanted to profile serial killers and arsonists, not to make public arrests of your everyday jailbird.

"You wanted to see me Agent Brock?" Clarice asked from the door, and he motioned her to sit down. His eyes were tired, and she could see that his walls were covered with clippings and crime scene photos of the serial killer he longed to catch.

"Clarice, we just got word of a killer down in Colorado that wants to talk. As much as you have _experience_ of talking to criminals in asylums, I think my Agents are better suited to talk to this guy. I wanted to let you know what was going on myself, before some other Agent filled you in. Have you finished going over the latest Lecter reports?" Brock asked, packing things in his briefcase.

"Yes sir. There seem to be a few genuine ones among them, but not many."

"I understand. Listen, Starling, I have an offer for you. If you do your best to try and find Lecter in the next six months, and whether you catch him or you don't, you'll be transferred here to the BAU. That maybe something you'd like?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now, we're off to Beckham Asylum and I will see you in a couple of days. Keep up the good work Clarice."

And then he was gone, leaving a very happy Starling in his wake. She had wanted to be in the BAU for so long that she was willing to give up the Lecter case to move. Clarice was getting too old for chasing Hannibal Lecter anyway.

#

A day and a half later, and Clarice was still sorting though the false reports. Thomas Carter, a young agent in the BAU had been assigned to help her out and to get some more experience. At the moment, however, he was helping out with the case Brock had been talking about. Bored with her current task, Starling set about investigating Beckham asylum. Using her FBI access codes and hacking skills, she managed to get a list of patients and their release dates.

_Kristoph Bryant_

The killing of his own family had driven him mad, but at the moment he was lucid enough to give information about the murders currently going on in his hometown. They suspected Kristoph's brother, but nothing was concrete yet. Clarice continued to run down the page until she found one that was being released tomorrow. She was a sixteen-year-old girl who went by the name of April Drake. Clarice brought up her picture, which brought a nagging feeling in the back of Clarice's mind that she had somehow seen her before. Her records said that her foster mother had admitted her after several suicide attempts.

_April Drake._

Now where had she heard that name before?

A sense of worry began to grow in the pit of her stomach, and Clarice called Thomas to see if he could get a picture on April Drake and all of her communications from the outside world. She knew that April and Kristoph would have no chance to talk to each other, they were on different wards, but something made Clarice feel that this girl shouldn't be let out.

Two hours later, and Thomas returned with some information on April Drake. With a sharp look he told her that Brock was not happy, April was pleasant and had given them much more information that Kristoph had been able to.

She flicked through the information, and found a website that April constantly went to. Its nature was not important, it was a typical cookery site with a forum and recipes and such. After cajoling the BAU tech to hack her into April's account, Clarice found herself face to face with a collection of private messages, all sent to another forum member. There were only a few, spaced far apart but this system was like emails, it stored the sender's message too. Starling rolled down to the beginning of the inbox and began to read.

_Dear Sweetbreads07, _

_Thank you for the recipe you posted, it was most delicious and my guests were most impressed. Thank you very much._

_Sketchaholic x _

**Dear Sketchaholic,**

**The pleasure was all mine; sharing my recipes is a joy. I'm glad your guests enjoyed the dinner. **

**Sweetbreads07 **

_Dear Sweetbreads07,_

_My dear uncle has told me that a friend of his goes by your very handle on this very website. This friend was over for tea the other day and they spent most of the time talking about the new recipes he had discovered while on this site. Was it you? I think I shall assume that it was._

_Isn't it nice when old family reconnects and talks? My uncle has talked highly of you, his cousin, for many years. I'm sure you have seen my picture on his mantle piece. Robert thinks very highly of me, and of you. Although he shares your surname, he is still a normal. And those who are normal do not understand the true artist inside. _

_I would say I hope to read your next book, but I unfortunately assume you won't be able to get it published. _

_Yours, _

_A._

**Dear A, **

**Your uncle talks too much, but yes it is I. I have seen your picture on his mantle piece, and you are a beautiful child. But are you in the same league as I? I think not. You say those that are 'normal' do not understand. You mean the people who populate the cities and the streets and mindlessly go from one task to the other? I know what makes me so different from the repugnant _slob_ on the sidewalk, but what of you?**

**I could send you a copy of my book, but I'm afraid I do not know your address. **

**Sweetbreads **

_Dear Sweetbreads, _

_I found your last letter very interesting. Not only did you reply to me, even though you do not know my name. I could be some FBI trap to lure you out into the open. Or maybe an idiotic fantasist longing for correspondence with a man greater than himself. _

_Those that walk the streets are normal, for they do not understand the beauty of a picture, the depth of a single stroke on the piano, or the feeling one gets when they bathe in a mans blood. They do not understand how ripping someone's throat out gives you such a heat for desire and such a longing for the power you have that it becomes a dangerous addiction. _

_As for your book, sending a copy to Robert is the best way to ensure that I receive it. _

_Yours, _

_A._

**Dear April, **

**That's right, I do know your name. And I must say, it is a pleasure to be talking to someone who has made such an impact at such an early age. I would send it to Robert, your uncle, but fear of him getting into such trouble. Tell me my little April Shower, does he still long to be in the bed of Alexandra, or has that ship passed him by? He did not mention anything to me, but I think that was more the fear of embarrassment. He might tell you, though, his dutiful niece. Do give my love when you write to him next. **

**How are the psychiatric facilities in Colorado? Sterilised and scrubbed down, just like you are? Brought to your knees by your own obsession of a calling card. Placing one of your sketches in each of your victim's houses was a bad mistake to make April. If you want to play with the big kids, you have to learn to play by the rules. I could help with your education, but I think it would be a waste of my time. **

**Now while this correspondence was interesting for a time, I do feel that it has begun to bore me. Good day April. **

**Have fun. **

**Hannibal Lecter, M.D**

#

Clarice sat in shock after reading the emails. It was not as much that Dr. Lecter had been in mere contact with an adolescent, but more that she knew who April truly was. After shifting herself from her reverie, Clarice called Brock on his cell phone. He had to know. He had to stop it. He had to stop _her_.

"Brock."

"Brock, its Agent Starling. I've been doing some research on April Drake…"

"And as I told Agent Carter, its pointless. April is a troubled youth who lost her parents at an early age. She was committed for suicide attempts, nothing more." _Damn_, Clarice thought. _That man wasn't going to listen, was he?_

"But sir…"

"No Agent Starling, enough. Get back to Lecter, its what you're paid to do."

"Drake, Aprils' surname, is the name she took when she was taken in by her American foster parents. The kid is British, and when she was over there her surname was different. It was Brandon."

"That's not possible."

Clarice took a sharp intake of breath to stop her mentally whacking her colleague's head against a brick wall.

"April Brandon, better known as the Sketchbook killer. With no fingerprints, no trace evidence except her drawings next to the victims bed, the courts had no choice but to let her go. After that, she was adopted and moved to America. There, she attempted suicide twice before she was finally admitted. Before she was finally alone without parents and with staff who didn't know what she was capable of. Staff that let her communicate with Hannibal Lecter over a cookery website," Clarice explained and then overheard the hurried talking over the mobile.

_"Bring her back! Now! Matthew, April is April Brandon!"_

_"The Sketchbook killer?"_

_"The one and the same. The youngest serial killer ever reported, with many years ahead of her to kill, is now loose on our streets…"_

#

As soon as she had been released, April had run to the car waiting outside. The foster parents were waiting at reception, but she hadn't gone to meet them. It was only going to be a small matter of time before they realised who she was. A small matter of time before they came chasing after her. Leaning back in her seat, April could taste the freedom that befell her.

"Ready to start your education?"

"Very much so."

April leant back in the car, with Hannibal Lecter next to her as they drove off. The end of one era lay behind them. The beginning of a very bloody one was in front.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hannibal: April Fool by DD Agent**

**Chapter Two**

Long time coming, I know. But here it is, the main part of the story of April Brandon and Hannibal Lecter. Hopefully it will live up to expectations.

- X -

_Two Years Later_

Clarice Starling sat at her desk, looking around at the posters and clippings on the wall. Finally, she had become all that she had ever wanted to be, an Agent with the BAU. All it had taken was the disappearance of the youngest Serial Killer ever recorded and her association with one of the most famous.

They had made quite a pair, April Brandon and Hannibal Lecter. Photos adorned the walls of bodies, from Rio to Sydney. They never stayed in one place too long, always moving on as soon as the FBI got wind of their presence. Sometimes they returned to the same place, knowing that the FBI wouldn't expect it. She saw April in her dreams some times, drawing her face as she slept. She saw Hannibal there too, all he did was stroke her cheek and kiss her on the forehead.

Catching them had become an obsession, catching them had become her life. No friends, no partners. All she had was her team and her dedication to finally putting her demons to rest in the face of Hannibal Lecter. And April was going to be the key to do it.

"Agent Starling?"

She turned around; Thomas was there with a file. He had been her rock in the past two years, always keeping her steady. He had let other Agents go out into the field; she wasn't ready to face Lecter even though she thought she was. Her time would come. Thomas Carter had grown into a sharp young man, and a good Agent.

"What is it Thomas?"

"I wanted to tell you this first. An Agent from Italy gave us some details about a few killings he's had in Venice. Street artists mostly, you know the sort. Most of them get killed for money, or because of drugs. But these killings were different, their throats were slit. I wondered if you would take a look at them."

Starling wondered if it was possible, had Lecter's protégé finally made a mistake? Both of them were very good, but April was the younger, the junior. Taking the case file, she opened it and looked at the crime scene photos. Three men, all street artists working in Venice. All had their throats slit. There was another case file on her desk, this about two men who had had their livers removed. Out of the two, the latter seemed more like Lecter and Brandon. Starling had already decided that she would let two other Agents investigate it.

She knew she should chalk it up to something else, but something about Venice made Starling wonder. What if it was Brandon? There was only one way to know.

"I'll go check it out, someone needs to just for completions sake. Fancy coming along?" Clarice asked, tucking the case file in among her things. Thomas smiled and nodded; thinking that there was a good chance that Lecter had nothing to do with this. He left and booked the plane tickets. There was still an odd feeling about this one, something that made Clarice's cheeks burn.

X

"She's becoming wild and uncouth. She is rude to the servants and has no respect for me. Harold, I know she is your daughter, but please can't you talk to her?"

"I will try Alexandra, I promise. But she doesn't seem to want to talk to me either."

April Brandon watched as the couple argued in the lobby at the front of the house. She watched from behind the staircase, out of sight of both of them. She had a feeling that Hannibal suspected her being there, but he couldn't see her. He had taught her well.

Her short brown hair from the hospital had grown into long flowing locks that she loved. Her eyes had started to sparkle, and everyone noticed how her skin had tanned in the Italian sunshine. Her clothes were of better make, nice jeans, and pretty shirts with expensive sandals. Hannibal provided for her, he always had.

But then _she_ had gotten in the way. After travelling around the world for the past fourteen months, they had stayed in Venice. Hannibal had gone out and about occasionally to draw the FBI off their trail, but they had finally settled down. They had bought a nice house with plenty of space, and had lived there for two months before Hannibal had let Alexandra move in. Although her uncle Robert had been in love with her, she had fallen for Hannibal, or 'Harold' as she knew him by. They had been engaged three months, and had spent most waking moments together.

They no longer hunted together, no longer prowled the streets looking for easy victims. He wouldn't teach her the best ways to avoid blood splatter, or how to cut a victims organs out. He was all _hers_, and April hated her for taking him away.

"And I found another one of her drawings, not the landscapes of the city but another dead body. This time it was one of the servants, she had decapitated his head! There is something not right with that child Harold. Please say you will do something!"

"I will try my love, I promise you that I will talk to her."

Hannibal Lecter's head turned sharply to the stairs where he heard a sob and the stampede of feet. So, April had been listening in. She had grown wilful and sullen since his engagement to Alexandra. He did not love the rich socialite, but was merely using her for cover. Hannibal had no idea when they would have to move on, hopefully never. Until then, Venice was their home and he intended to recapture some enjoyment out of it.

"Doctor, your paper?" the servant handed him over the recent paper and he flicked to the front page, all the while watching the landing for any sighting of April. The paper bore the headline "Death imitates Art". Dread began to well up inside as he read the article. Three street artists had been found murdered, all with their throats slit.

Putting the paper down on a table, he left Alexandra's side and raced up the stairs. He followed April's scent until he came to a large open window. The glass panels had been opened, and from the dirt on the sill, it was obvious that April had climbed down the rose covered trellis to the ground.

His eyes followed her footprints in the gravel to the centre of the maze. There was April. Walking through, he could see her sobbing and covered in pastel smudges. He had forgotten that she was still young, and that she needed all the attention of a small baby kitten before it turns into a killing cat. They had killed together, worked together. He was her _real _father, and she loved him so. But love works both ways, something that Hannibal did not think he could give the young girl.

He watched her behind one of the bushes as she angrily drew on the paved surface. It was one of the dead street artists; there was a good likeness between the drawing and the photo in the paper. April had drawn him with his throat slit, and at present she was getting very angry at the colour red. She thrust it furiously across the drawing, until she gave up and began to cry.

X

Clarice and Thomas stepped off the plane. They hadn't needed to pack much; they both hoped that it would be a routine investigation with nothing there. All that could be needed was to help the authorities with the killer that they had at hand once they had determined it was neither Lecter nor Brandon. They had spent the journey talking about things other than work, which Thomas did more than Clarice. She had no idea what _Desperate Housewives_ was, nor why it was important to Thomas' roommate.

Agent Mason, the FBI official in the Italy area, greeted them as they came off the plane. He looked tired around the eyes, and Clarice suspected that he had been worried about their thoughts on the case.

"Agent Mason, I'm Agent Starling and this is Agent Carter."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise."

They found his car and drove for a little while before Mason brought up the topic in hand.

"Agent Starling, do you really believe this is Hannibal Lecter?"

Thomas explained that it was only a routine check, and they hadn't got any definite ideas at the moment. Clarice just stared out the window, burying the part of her that longed for Lecter to be in Venice deep inside her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hannibal: April Fool by DD Agent**

**Chapter Three**

**Alert: Swearing and light sexual scenarios. **

**X**

They had gone to the office after the long drive to Venice. Upon entering the city, Clarice's cheeks begin to flame and her skin started to pimple into goose bumps. She felt him here; it was like a curse she didn't want to get rid of. Mason had offered her and Thomas tea, which they had taken. Afterwards they went over the case files again, looking at things from angle upon angle.

"They didn't have much in common, well apart from them all being street artists. Even their mediums varied, " Mason explained, looking at the crime scene photos from victim number 3.

Starling picked up one of the evidence inventories and started to read. On each of the victims, an invitation to a party had been found, one thrown by Alexandra De Faye. "What about the party?"

"About a hundred people were invited, another six artists as well as those three. Miss De Faye is a well known member of Venetian society, she and her fiancé throw a lot of parties."

"Maybe we should go and interview her?" Clarice suggested, and Morgan looked like he was either regretting inviting them down or dreading meeting the society mogul.

"Maybe we should."

The house was huge. Stone walls, about six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and a large maze out back. It made Thomas long for his large family home back in Illinois, while it made Clarice miss her one bedroom apartment. Simplicity, that was the key. They knocked on the door and a servant opened it. After explaining why they were there, he left to find the mistress of the house. Thomas stood looking around with his mouth gaping, while Clarice firmly kept hers shut. Rich people had been known to kill.

"Miss De Faye will see you in the library," the servant announced when he returned and led them down a corridor on their left.

The library turned out to be two floors worth of books with a very nice three-piece suite and dining set. Clarice decided to play bad cop and stick her feet up. Thomas just shook his head and went for a cup of tea and a biscuit. Alexandra finally entered, wearing a purple, light-weighted dress and sling backs. Very professional. The whole outfit most likely cost more than Starling's monthly salary.

"Hello Agents. How can I help you?" She asked, smiling all the way. Very polite, very courteous and full of bullshit. The smile didn't stop the anger flashing in her eyes about Clarice's feet.

"The party you threw last month. Three of the men on the invites list have turned up dead."

"Do you have their names, or am I going to have to guess?" Alexandra turned on a bitter smile, and Clarice handed her the names. They matched stares for a moment before they both turned away. Thomas sighed inwardly, this could be painful. The socialite looked at the list for a moment before smiling and handing it back.

"The people on this list were at the special request of my future step daughter Amanda. She loves art, and thought that the professionals in Venice could do with meeting the scum at the bottom of the pan. Talk to her."

"Is that all?" Clarice asked, satisfied that she was telling the truth but also noting that Alexandra was wringing her fingers. Something was up.

She looked caught out, and tried to see if anyone was around before turning to the Agents. "My stepdaughter Amanda is a little strange. By little I mean sociopathic. She talks about odd things and draws dead people. I'm hoping that my fiancé can talk to her, but I don't know if she'll listen. I'll take you to her, knowing Amanda she's probably behind their deaths."

"Is that a statement?" Clarice asked cheerfully, noting the vein popping on Alexandra's forehead. She led Starling, Carter and Mason through the corridors of the house. While Mason engaged Alexandra in conversation, Thomas turned to Clarice.

"Think she could be April Brandon?"

"Anything's possible."

They came to a bedroom at the back of the house, where the door was wide open. A girl was sitting on the bed, making a mess with charcoal. She looked up at the sight of the Agents, and her eyes flashed towards Alexandra.

"Amanda, honey, these investigators want to talk to you about some of the artists who have died. Is that alright?"

"Its fine. Please sit down."

Amanda smiled at the Agents, but it stopped dead at the sight of Alexandra, who tried to keep face but faltered. Starling and Carter took seats on the sofa opposite the bed, noticing the wide range of drawings on the walls. They were from many places across the globe.

"I'm Agent Thomas Carter. Have you been to all these places Amanda?" Thomas asked, smiling at her. She sat up on the bed and pulled her hair back, revealing a pretty face and pretty figure. She gave him a smile before responding.

"Not yet. What questions do you want to ask?"

"These three men, do you know who they are?" Starling showed her the pictures and she looked over them with inquisitive glances. She didn't reveal any disgust in the pictures, or any pride.

"They were at the party, I've talked to them about their art before. Do you know why they died?" she asked Thomas, ignoring Clarice entirely. He gave her a wide smile, and Clarice rolled her eyes. He should be careful about this one if she was April Brandon, wouldn't want another Agent rumoured to have hooked up with a Serial Killer.

"We're not sure yet…"

"Alexandra, Amanda, what is going on here?" came a voice from the doorway, and Clarice immediately froze. It was the voice that had haunted her dreams, caressed her in her sleep. It was the voice that she heard in the middle of the supermarket and forgot all sense of reason. Turning to the doorway, she realised she had the sight ingrained in her memory. His facial features, and the sight of his strong shoulders. It was he, Hannibal Lecter.

He looked out of place with the gorgeous woman around him, and the young girl on the bed looking at him with admiration and loathing. The loathing may have just been for Alexandra though. Family man Hannibal Lecter, something Clarice never thought she would live to see.

"Well hello there. Can I help you with something? Harold Bamber, MD. My identification if you need any proof," he announced, handing Clarice his wallet. Their eyes met for a moment, the same maroon still present. She flicked to the ID, completely legitimate just as he wanted her to know. They would need DNA to make a comparison, her testimony wouldn't hold up much, especially as everyone believed Lecter to have plastic surgery to hide his identity. It might be difficult at the moment to get an arrest anyway, especially with the influence that Alexandra seemed to hold over the city.

"That's fine Doctor Bamber. We were talking to your young daughter here about some murders that have taken place."

"Well I hope you don't think she had anything to do with them," snorted Lecter indignantly. But Clarice had known the good Doctor too long not to notice how his eyes flared a deeper red towards the girl, April.

"No, we're just investigating all possible avenues. Thank you for your time."

"No problem, happy to help out the police at any given opportunity."

"Thank you."

Clarice shook hands with Hannibal, and a charge went through her. She gave a firm smile, and she noticed that there was sadness tugging at the edges of his mouth. Maybe he didn't want to go back, maybe he didn't want her to be the one to take him back. That, unfortunately wasn't his decision to make.

"You've come along way, and I'm sorry we haven't helped as well as we could have done. We're holding a party tonight, you would be very welcome to come," Alexandra invited, unaware of what was transpiring between Clarice and her fiancé.

"We might do that, thank you."

X

When they had made it back to the office, Starling had given a positive ID of Lecter and Brandon. They had called FBI headquarters, requested back up and had decided to go to the party to get some solid evidence. Carter was concerned how she was holding up, but Starling put on her game face.

While getting ready for the party, she wore the dress that Lecter had bought for her all those years ago. She had included it in her things, for some unbeknownst reason. The scar of the stitching showed like a beacon on her skin, but she knew that he would remember. He would have to remember. Of course he would remember. She hoped. She dreaded.

"You ready to go?"

Thomas was eager for this to happen; she could see that in his face. This would be the first killer he had taken down, and he was like her at the start of her career, eager to please and desperate to make a name for himself.

They arrived at Lecter's house, where lanterns hung around the place, and people were milling endlessly around with glasses of wine. Alexandra met them at the door and welcomed them inside. In the crowd, Starling lost Thomas. She hoped he didn't get up to anything without her supervision. Smiling at some random guest, she felt herself being tugged backward into a dark corner.

Lecter.

"Hello Clarice."

"Doctor Lecter. Tell me, does your fiancée know that you are a wanted fugitive and Serial Killer. Probably not."

Hannibal had her up against the wall again, digging his fingers into her shoulders. He looked up and down and began to smile as he noticed the dress.

"You're wearing it after all this time? Maybe I should have stayed in Chesapeake and discovered what would have happened if I had kissed you again."

Starling tried to push back, but his hands moved from her shoulders to down to her waist. They stared into each other's eyes, trying to burn fire into the other.

"I'm going to put you away Hannibal, you and April."

"Oh do try Clarice, I would love to have another quid pro quo in another jail cell," he replied before crashing his mouth down on hers. He bit her tongue, and she responded by kissing him so hard that any normal man's jaw would break. Hannibal pushed her back hard against the wall for a moment and stared at her in confusion for a moment before she walked away dazed.

X

April hadn't joined the group of partygoers. She had preferred to sit and think in her bedroom. How dare those investigators come and suspect her? It was the truth, but that was not the point. Hannibal had shut her away in her room after yelling at her and hitting her. The welt below her eye still stung with pain and hurt. She had been sloppy to get Hannibal to notice her again, but it had failed miserably.

"Hey, you okay?" It was Thomas, the cute investigator. She smiled and patted the bed beside her. She could do with an excuse not to go back to the party for a while, especially where Alexandra was concerned.

"You are a very handsome man," April stated, tucking a lock of black hair behind his ear. She was not without her feminine wiles, possibly the only good thing that Alexandra had ever done for her.

"Amanda, tell me the truth. Did you kill those men?" April began to chuckle, both from the absurdity of the statement and from the use of her fake name.

"Quid pro quo, Thomas. I will tell you one thing in exchange for a kiss. Deal?"

"Deal."

The silly boy, April thought as she told little titbit after little titbit. His kisses grew firmer and wetter as she revealed more and more information about the killings. She pulled off his dinner jacket, and soon all information had been forgotten for the sake of the moment. Silly boy indeed.

Her first time with a man was someone investigating her for triple homicide, Hannibal would be so proud. She let Thomas sleep it off in her bed, while she found her knife amongst her paints. Now, it would be bad practice to let a man who knew so much about her live, wouldn't' it? No matter what they had just done. April advanced on Thomas, realizing that if she did this then she could not return home, return to Hannibal. She made the first cut, accepting her fate.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hannibal: April Fool by DD Agent**

**Chapter Four**

**Warning: Slightly sexual scenarios. **

They had been hidden away in the dark corners of the house, but she had seen her fiancé kissing one of the investigators. Alexandra grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the passing waiters as she made her way upstairs. Her head was clouded, she couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.

Alexandra didn't remember going up the stairs, she didn't remember passing her bedroom or the study. However, her mind began to wake up when she past Amanda's room. The door was open, when usually she shut it at night. Opening it up slightly, she saw a male figure on the bed.

She saw the blood. She screamed.

X

The party was over, and crime scene tape was surrounding the bedroom. Clarice Starling watched from the doorway as the coroner zipped up Thomas' body. Alexandra was being talked to, she was in shock. After his body was found, Clarice had sent the Agents searching around the house for Hannibal and April. No trace of either of them had been found.

"Agent Starling? We found this tape on Agent Carter's body." The technician passed her the tape, and Clarice pressed the play button.

_"Amanda, tell me the truth. Did you kill those men?" _

_"Quid pro quo, Thomas. I will tell you one thing in exchange for a kiss. Deal?"_

_"Deal."_

Clarice pressed stop. April Brandon had learned from the best, and now Thomas was dead for he, too, had learned from the best. But Clarice's best was not as good as Hannibal, it never had been.

"I want an arrest warrant sent out for April Brandon and Hannibal Lecter. I want any routes to get off this damn city closed. I want them flushed out and in custody by sun rise, do I make myself clear?"

The Agents nodded and went to carry out her orders. Clarice stared at the place where Thomas' body had just been before leaving the scene herself. Bile was rising up in her; it was her failure that had led to his death. Her fault. Now Lecter and Brandon were going to pay the price, she was going to make sure of that.

X

Lecter had found her on the edge of an abandoned piece of dock. There was blood on her pretty party dress, and mascara smudges around her eyes. He had never seen anything as small as her now. Such a sad little thing.

"April."

"Hannibal."

He sat beside her on the dock and held out his hand for her to take. What seemed like hours was spent on the edge there, feet dangling into the water while holding each other's hands. Finally, when the silence grew too much for her to take, April turned to Hannibal.

"I'm sorry Hannibal, I'm so sorry."

"Hush child. I will not go back into FBI custody, ever. Now that you are eighteen years of age, you can be held accountable for your actions. They will burn you alive for what you have done April."

He turned to her and moved a strand of hair out of her face before caressing her cheek. His fingers traced the bruise he had given her earlier, he had regretted that the moment he had done it. Their hands were unclenched, and he pressed a significant amount of money into the palm of her hand.

"My little April Shower. I think, that if I ever had the urge to procreate or found a mate willing, that you would be the result."

"Hannibal..."

They embraced, the young girl still not a woman crying into his tuxedo jacket. They broke apart and stood up. April knew what she had to do now.

"Run to the furthest corner of the world, and then back half way. One day I hope to see you again, April, but not in side by side cells."

She ran, and kept running until the sun came up. Hannibal just sat by the edge of the dock, looking at the water in sadness. He never thought that that was an emotion he could feel, but when it came to April, a reflection of him, it came easily. The pain he felt in his chest, he supposed that must be love. How strange.

His phone began to ring, and he answered it, knowing who it would be.

"Well hello Clarice. How is the party, I hope you are enjoying it."

_"Where is she Doctor?"_

"Not here, I'm quite sad that I had to send her away. She may have the body of a woman, but her mind is as fragile as a child's. I would have liked some more time with her."

_"We will find her."_

"I'm sure you will try. Will you meet me Clarice, in a lone apartment in Venice? I wish to talk once more before I make my own travel plans."

_"You have to know that I will try and bring you in."_

"That, Clarice, is what I am hoping for."

X

He had given her the address, and she was equipped with a bug to record everything inside the room. She had made sure that there were Agents outside ready to come in when I gave the order for them to. Mason gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder as she went in gun first. The place was dusty, but she could see the remnants of paintings on the walls. They all had the childlike quality but immeasurable talent that was April's work.

"Do you like them Clarice? I think she is a very gifted artist."

Hannibal was sitting on a lone chair in the centre of the room, next to a bed. Clarice chose to sit on the bed with her back against the wall.

"We've spent a long time chasing each other, haven't we Clarice. I hear you now work for the BAU. Congratulations, I'm happy for you."

"Thank you Doctor Lecter. Now, can we talk about your killing spree across the globe."

"Not really a spree, Agent Starling, more of a recreational round the world trip. I would much rather talk about what you called me back at the party. You called me _Hannibal_."

"Slip of the tongue."

"Do not fool me Clarice, for you cannot."

He had advanced on the bed, and she had froze. Fear and lust was crawling in her blood and she didn't know what to do. He removed the gun from her hands and placed it on the bed next to them.

"My dear Clarice, so long since we last talked. I found I rather miss you, the taste of you."

He kissed her; fire was crawling in her mouth. His mouth and tongue and teeth made their way to her neck, biting and licking her till she was squirming from pain and pleasure. He tore off her FBI windbreaker and tossed it aside, his hands moving over her body. _He was good at the piano_, she remembered, _which was probably why he was so good at manipulating my body_.

All thoughts of the FBI downstairs, the bug on her back or anything to do with bringing Lecter in were forgotten. All she wanted was to remember the man who had consumed her life for so many years now. Nearly twenty must be nearly twenty. So many years, so many moments wasted on the thought of this man. It didn't matter any more, because she knew know that she belonged to him, body, and soul. Always him.

"Goodbye Clarice."

His words brought salty tears to her cheeks, and she sucked in oxygen because it was the only thing keeping her alive. That, and the thought of Hannibal Lecter. He disappeared like a shadow in the night, and was nowhere to be found when the FBI broke down the door. Mason tried to talk to her, but no words were getting through. Her phone started to ring, no doubt a call from some higher up government official. She didn't care, the only thing that meant a damn to her any more had just walked out of her life.

Mason ordered agents to search the premise, and Clarice slipped out quietly. Her badge and gun were on the bed, no longer part of her. From her first visit to the asylum, to the brief touch of hands in his cell. To the call in Florence, through to their kiss at Chesapeake. Everything that had happened in her life was no longer in her control; her life was no longer hers. It was his, always him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hannibal: April Fool by DD Agent**

**Chapter Five**

_Six Months Later_

She didn't know why she had picked Cornwall, England, of all places. Maybe it had that charm of small town life that reminded her of her father. The countryside, open air. Maybe she just wanted things simple now. That was it, simplicity. Always the best way.

Clarice had cut her hair, this time it was short and layered, just above her neck. She had put on a little bit of weight, and had taken up swimming instead of running. She lived in a small cottage away from the world, and she wrote her memoirs each day before burning them each night. It was therapeutic. It was a new life for a new person.

"Mornin' love!" cried a fisherman selling his bounty as she walked down a market street. It seemed that the people here were untouched by Hannibal Lecter, something she found blissful. No one knew who she was, although she had kept her name.

She found a couple of street artists and admired the beauty of their work, for they were truly incredible. There were some wonderful landscapes on offer, showing the ferocity of the waves and the gentleness of the sand. There were also some portraits, although these held a style that was both childlike and intelligent. A style that Clarice remembered very well.

"Did you paint these?" Clarice asked, pointing to the ones she was looking at. He shook his head; he just sold them for a friend of his. She asked where the artist could be found, and he pointed to a lone cottage on the edges of the small town, much like her own. She thanked the artist, and bought one of the waves.

She went up to the lone cottage and knocked at the door. When there was no answer, she went around to the back garden that overlooked the ocean.

"Hello Agent Starling," greeted April. She looked calmer, and she was painting the ocean gracefully across the page. There was no trace of the angry young girl who had killed her partner and countless others. Instead, this was a woman who was sedate and professional.

"He'll be back soon, you can talk to him then. Till then, sit. We heard you got kicked out of the FBI, I'm sorry to hear that."

Everything seemed a little bizarre, most notably because here Clarice was, sitting with a Serial Killer. But then she had done that before. They talked slightly, not much because April was concentrating on the waves. She could see healed scars up and down her arms, knife marks. She had tried to take her life again, several times by the looks of things.

"Good morning April, good morning Clarice."

Hannibal Lecter entered, a little sun on his face and a white shirt that suited him. He handed his young ward a cup of coffee and a pastry. He handed Clarice the same. Hannibal watched as April painted for a moment before kissing the top of her head. He turned to Clarice.

"Fancy a walk?"

It was too early for the tourists to have packed the beaches yet, so Clarice and Hannibal had the whole of the sand to themselves. It was awkward and surreal, but nice. She resisted the urge to curl up in his chest, even though that was what she longed to do. Safety and familiarity.

"How did you find her?" Clarice asked after some time of silence. Hannibal smiled for a moment before explaining.

"She had returned home, and set up here. She managed to get herself a job, buy this attractive cottage with the money I had given her. I have never felt more affection for anyone else except you, than for April. I had to find her, so I did. When I discovered her, she was bitter and suicidal. Your Agents death and my rejection had caused a monster to spring up inside her. My return, I like to think, saved her and countless others. We worked together, helped her painting and her skills. She hasn't killed anyone in four months."

"And you, Hannibal, how have you fared?"

"I only kill the rude or those that threaten me. The people of Cornwall are very nice. Some of the teenagers leave a lot to be desired, however. And there are no tourists at this moment in time. We shall see."

Clarice smiled as they continued their walk back to the cottage. Inside, Hannibal went to get April, leaving her alone in the living room with a phone at her disposal. She picked up the receiver, and her fingers lingered on the buttons she could so easily press. However, her heart ached her not to, and she placed the phone down in its cradle.

Hannibal, having watched the scene, came in and pressed his lips to Clarice's forehead. April joined them, rolled her eyes, and switched on the television to watch a program on art.

_Harry Booth and Catherine Cassidy_

_would like to announce their marriage, _

_that occurred on the 31__st__ October. _

_The happy couple were married in _

_a small ceremony, mostly attended_

_by locals and Harry's daughter Alex._

_They hope to stay in Cornwall for a_

_long time as they enjoy the peace_

_and quiet. _

End


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